Dirty Criminal
by Kyuu333
Summary: There are many criminals in this city, some dirtier than others. AU, Supernova-centric. 1-Luffy 2-Zoro 3-Drake 4-Bonney 5-Hawkins 6-Apoo 7- 8- 9- 10-
1. ASL

I'm only going to put one author's note in this whole story so that the feel of continuation is more fluid. So all notes for every chapter will be here.

This fic was basically an idea that grew to humongous extents, so now I can't stop writing it until it's done. Don't expect any updates on my other stories while this one is still in progress, just FYI...I'll still be working on the other ones on the side but it'll be slow for now! This is an AU One Piece fic, focusing on the Eleven Supernovae, in a realistic setting. Everyone has done crimes, and the type of crime differs with each Supernova. Each of them have a chapter for themselves (except Kid and Killer, they share one chapter). A few notes:

-There's a bunch of swearing from Bonney, Kid, and maybe Capone. Mostly Kid, though.

-Since my sister loves the pairing, there's a little ZoRobin fluff.

-Also some KidLaw creepy-hate-fluff later on, as always.

-The mafia appears in this story (Capone, duh) along with some other things, so there will be blood violence.

-The stories are separate, but some/most/almost all of them connect together. So read carefully. If you've watched Baccano, the plot jumps around like that. If you skim anything, you'll probably be confused later.

-Everyone is human.

-Keep an eye out for the rest of the Straw Hat Crew, especially Brook. He wanders around the story. Everywhere. YOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO.

-If you can name all of the crimes, I will be happy.

Anyways, enjoy! Please remember to review!

* * *

><p><strong>1: ASL<strong>

Noisy sounds of dining filled the restaurant. The opulence of the atmosphere was only amplified with the large amount of gentlemen and ladies in fine gown. They sat at the rounded, clothed tables, chatting politely, while cutting up their food into tiny little pieces. Waiters walked like wind-up figurines through the fancy room between the tables, maintaining a constant speed and perfect posture. It seemed like the fanciest restaurant in the entire world. Though, the common person could not see what happened behind this system.

Once one of the waiters went out of view of the customers, his perfect stature crumbled as he burst into the vast kitchen. "Ch-chef! The guest in private room number two has asked for another serving of everything on the menu again!"

The executive chef's head snapped up as he was interrupted from yelling at one particular subordinate who was performing inadequately. His hand still firmly grasped the minor cook's shirt collar. "What, again!" he hissed, chewing on his still-smoking cigarette, his one visible eye glaring at the waiter. He shoved the chef that he held captive, knocking him down, and sighed, running a hand through his blond hair. "Tch, using up so many ingredients…can't help it, it's a customer after all. Hey all of you! Everything on the menu! Get to it!" the chef commanded.

"Yes, chef!" The workers continued to cook up their great creations.

Back outside, more customers had entered.

"Welcome, guests!" A staff member bowed politely. The two newcomers didn't seem to notice him, walking in and staring at the interior decorations. The staff member couldn't help but eye them strangely – their shabby clothes made them stand out immediately.

"Oooooh, this place is cool!" the younger one laughed, a hand reaching up and holding onto the woven hat on his head. The older grinned, crossing his arms, his eyes hidden by his own decorated hat.

"Yeah I know, right? Good thing we have the money to come here this time! Y'know?"

"Yep, I'll eat lots! Shi shi shi!"

The older man smirked, then looked to the staff member. "Hey, get us a private room would ya?"

"R-right away! Follow me, please."

As the two new customers followed the staff member, they attracted glances from the richer-looking guests. Some stared in confusion, others in distaste. These two were obviously some poor boys. How would they have money to get in here? The three arrived at the hall of private rooms. There seemed to be a rush as the waiters hurriedly carried food into the second room, and exited holding giant empty plates. As the door opened and closed, the sound of extreme eating could be heard. The young man stared at these waiters who were running in a line like ants, mouth watering at the sight of the great heaving plates of steaming food.

"Room number three. Please enter."

The two customers took their seats and were given their menus. When the two were settled, the staff member bowed, leaving the room. As soon as the door closed, the younger man sprung to his feet, leaning on the table.

"Hey, Ace! Did you see all that food! It looks amaaazing!" he exclaimed, sticking a drooling tongue out with his giant grin. Ace smiled, resting his feet up on the table.

"Heh, yeah, I saw. We'll eat a lot of that today, Luffy! And maybe nab some to go while we're at it."

"Shishi, Gramps wouldn't like it if we brought home stuff we didn't pay for," Luffy commented.

"Then we don't tell him! He likes food too, anyway. He'd probably eat it all without any questions."

"But- I wanna eat it all!"

Ace chuckled, reaching over and pinching his little brother's cheek. "Then destroy the evidence! …But leave some for me, too."

"…Nope! Gonna eat it all!"

The older brother rolled his eyes, but kept his humorous grin. Then, he shot Luffy a clever wink before calling a waiter into the room. "Get us everything on the menu!" he said to the man when he entered. The man at the door froze, frowning severely.

"R…right away!" the man closed the door and leaned his back to it, stunned for a minute. Then, he gathered up his courage to run to the kitchen.

"P-private room number three has also ordered everything on the menu!"

This received a furious look from the executive chef. He barred his teeth, biting through his cigarette. "Are you serious! What the hell's wrong with today's customers!" Quick with his actions, he turned to run through the kitchen, barking at everyone to work twice as fast. Slowly but surely, food filed into Luffy and Ace's room. Immediately, the two started digging in, not pausing to take a breath.

In private room number two, the guest bit into another piece of meat, then paused, hearing the ruckus next door. "They're noisy," she growled with her mouth full. The waiters filing into her room frowned as they heard this.

"Er, are they bothering you, miss?"

The woman frowned for a moment, then shrugged, continuing her feast. "Nah, whatever! Keep the food coming!"

"Y-yes, ma'am!"

So continued the craziest lunch service the restaurant has ever experienced. Finally, after what seemed to be eternity, the customers finished up.

"Hmph, gotta run," the private guest woman from the second room sighed, still chewing food as she glanced at the clock. She then turned to the waiters. "Hey you people, box all that food that you're carrying."

"Er, yes ma'am, right away!" The waiters rushed out with the plates. As they exited, the woman smirked, reaching in her pocket and laying down a wad of cash.

In the other room, Luffy took a huge breath after drinking a whole giant bowl of soup that was two times the size of his head. "Ahhh, this was so good!"

Ace laughed, tearing at a huge bone of meat. "Told you it would be a great place to go! Well anyway, think we should take off soon."

"Oh! Right!"

Ace turned to the waiters. "Box all of this up for us!" They exited the room, reentered with the excess food, and exited again. The older brother eyed the bill that they left, then leaned over to his little brother. "Hey Luffy, the IOU's."

"Yep! Got 'em right here!" Luffy pulled out a sack of what seemed like paper money. When he dropped the heavy bag, the string came loose, revealing strips of white paper that read: _"IOU. – Luffy"_

"'Kay, let's get outta here!" Grabbing half of the leftovers and letting Luffy carry the other half, they bolted out the door, zooming passed the stunned-looking rich people.

"Ch-chef! The guests in private rooms number two and three both left fake cash!" a waiter yelled as he broke into the kitchen again.

"Seriously! God damn it!"

The executive chef shoved out of the kitchen and rushed to the hallway just in time to see the female guest exit the second private room. Some waiters were protesting her leaving, but her death glare made them back away.

"Hey!" the executive chef yelled. "Pay for your meal, you-" He stopped and blinked, staring at the woman. She had turned her scowling face to him, her hands on her hips.

"Hah?" she demanded. Her flowing pink hair cascaded down her shoulders, covering up a little, but definitely not all of, the skin that showed under her skimpy outfit. The chef blinked a few times silently.

"…Nothing! We hope you had a good meal, lovely lady~," he suddenly said with a blissful expression, bowing deeply to her. The woman stared, not expecting that.

"Oh…okay. See ya then," she said as she walked away, giving a small wave.

"Please come again~!"

"Ch-CHEF SANJI!" the waiters yelled with disbelief.

"What, you guys have a problem?" Sanji questioned, once again going back to his dangerous scowl. "Any food offered to a lovely lady is no waste! Even if she does not pay!"

Some waiters groaned. "There he goes again…" "Can't help it, Chef Sanji is Chef Sanji after all."

"So what about the other guests?"

"R-right! They were two young men, and they just took off-"

"PUNKS! IF YOU'RE NOT BEAUTIFUL WOMEN, GET BACK HERE AND PAY FOR YOUR MEAAAL!" With this spontaneous yell, Sanji took off in hot pursuit, leaving dazed waiters behind him.

"Shishishishi! Hey hey, Ace, I think we're getting better at this eat-and-run thing!" Luffy giggled as they ran across the sidewalk, slipping nimbly passed any confused pedestrians. Their hats were off of their heads for convenience, though the straps were tied around their necks, so that the hats hung securely over their backs.

"Yeah, we are, aren't we?" Ace grinned, turning his smiling face to his brother.

"We've gotta tell Sabo all about it when he wakes up! Then he can join us!"

At the mentioning of that name, Ace's smile faded slightly, and he averted his eyes. "Yeah…I've got a feeling he'll wake up soon. We just have to keep waiting for him…" he muttered. What small hopes he had were reflected in his sad smile. Luffy kept his bright smile, staring at his brother encouraging as they kept running.

"I _know_ he'll wake up soon! 'Cause Sabo is Sabo!"

This brightened the older brother's expression slightly. "Yeah, you're right, Luffy!" he chuckled, risking the safety of any pedestrians in front of them to reach over ruffle the younger brother's hair. He then stared forward, with regained confidence in his grin. _'He will come back. He's our brother after all!'_

"Heeeeey! You two get your asses back here!" A loud, traveling voice yelled, telling the two that they were being chased.

"Oh noo! He found us," Luffy exclaimed, but couldn't help but laugh.

"Heh, we'll show him how unstoppable we D. brothers are," Ace said, his grin growing. "Faster, Luffy!"

"Yep!"

The two of them picked up the pace, until the street blurred with its cars and people. They had a near miss with an extremely tall man wearing a top hat, though since that person was so thin, he managed to fit in between the running brothers.

"Ah, please be careful you two!" the man called politely after them.

"Oh sorry, mister!" Luffy called back. Sanji, right then, also ran passed the man with blazing speed, with so much air flowing that the man spun a few times, dizzying himself.

"Yohohohoho~"

"My bad- STOP RUNNING!" Sanji first called to the confused man, then went back to glaring at the two thieves.

"Whoa, what's with this guy? He's pretty fast," Ace commented, glancing back at their pursuer.

"I dunno, but it's kinda cooool!" Luffy laughed. His eyes suddenly lit up with an idea. "Wouldn't it be awesome if he was actually a robot with super speed in his legs?"

"I guess, but not when he's chasing us."

"Hehe! Yep, I guess so!"

After a moment, Ace took another glance back. "I think he's actually gaining on us," he observed with a frown.

"Is he? He really is a robo- whoa, look out!"

The two brothers quickly dodged a man that was walking towards them from the other direction, who was busy downing a small bottle of _sake_. "Hm?" The man blinked when he saw the two pass him. Before he could react, Sanji pushed past him, causing him to drop the clay bottle. It smashed into pieces on the pavement, wasting what last drops were left in it. The man's eye twitched.

The sound of drawing swords caused both Ace and Luffy to stop their flight, confused. They both turned to see that the drinking man had drawn two swords from his belt, and had swung them at Sanji. Luckily, Sanji saw the flash of metal and skidded to a stop, raising a leg to parry the blades.

"The hell? What's your problem?" he hissed.

"You made me drop my drink," the swordsman growled.

"Whoa! Ace, it's a swordsman! With three swords!" Luffy gasped, staring at the two swords in the man's hands and one still tucked in his belt.

"What the shit?" Ace seemed confused to see this scene in front of them. Something – just _something_ – felt weird in this picture. As the two guys argued on, Ace blinked, and his thoughts snapped back to their situation at hand. "Well, whatever this is, it's a good thing! Let's go before he chases us again, Luffy!"

"Right! Bye, three-swords and super-legs!" Luffy exclaimed with a wave, then followed his brother closely behind. "Shishishi! This is a special day!"

"You got that right," Ace chuckled, imagining all the weird that they just witnessed. The two cheerful brothers laughed their way home.


	2. Pirate Hunter

**2: "Pirate Hunter"**

The door of the musty bar swung open with a dragging creak. A figure walked quietly into the room, welcomed by the sound of sweet music.

Yohohoho~

Following the sound of the piano, a singing voice could be heard, echoing throughout the place like the voice of a musical ghost. Footsteps sounded heavily as the newcomer trudged along, dragging his feet across the wooden floorboards. He found his way through the dim lighting, walking slowly to the bar. His hands reached, searching, until he found the cushion of a stool. Taking a seat on that stool, he sighed, leaning an elbow on the countertop in front of him and leaning his chin on his palm.

"_Sake_," he muttered without looking up, staring at the wooden table. His appearance drew the attention of other people sitting around the small hangout. For one, three sheathed swords hung from his side, making the people glance twice in thought that they were seeing things. Who carried the swords around these days? And who _ever_ carried around three?

A clay bottle was set down in front of the man. "You look like you're doing well, Mister Swordsman," a content voice commented. The man raised his eyes to peer at the figure in front of him. A woman was smiling down at him calmly, stray locks of dark hair falling over her face.

"Hm," the man grunted, grasping the bottle and taking a draught. "I guess."

The woman kept her tart smile. Taking up a rag, she wiped the countertop, cleaning a mess left by an earlier customer. "Would you like to talk about your day?"

"Not really."

"Fu fu, all right then."

The two fell silent – the man drinking, and the woman working. They remained so until another person from one of the tables approached from behind. Both of them looked up with frowns as the shadow was thrown upon them. The shadow belonged to a decently massive man. This person's face was flushed red, identifying that he had had a little too much to drink. The swordsman stared with a bored look, bottle of _sake_ held frozen in one place in the air.

"Hey you…tough guy," the newcomer hiccupped, glaring down with intimidating, beady eyes, "What's with them swords? Trying to look cool?"

Not blinking, the swordsman stared back for a moment. Then, he turned his head and took another sip of alcohol, acting as if that drunkard wasn't there.

"Don't…ignore me, punk," the massive man growled, raising his fists. "Probably don't even know how to use them swords, do ya? Hey!" Seeing that the man's focus was now all of the _sake_, he sneered reaching to grab the drink in hopes of drawing attention.

That was possibly the worst decision he could have ever made. The swordsman snapped a quick glare at the clumsy drunkard. With lighting speed, he slammed the sake bottle down on the counter and grabbed for two of his sword handles. Before anyone could react, he tackled the drunk to the ground, holding both blades at his throat.

"Don't touch my drink," the swordsman said plainly, narrowing his eyes at the man who was now paralyzed with fear.

"Zoro."

The calm warning from the woman behind the counter caused the swordsman to pause, his gaze flickering once or twice to her. Finally, he sighed through his nose, getting back up and putting away his weapons. The drunken man scrambled to his feet and fearfully bolted for the door. Right when he stepped outside and was seen turning and running down the sidewalk, the staff-only door to the back slammed open, and out ran another woman, her furious brown eyes fixed on the running man.

"Hey, idiot! You didn't pay! Get back here and _give us your money_!"

"Oh my. It looks like Miss Nami was watching this whole time," the bartender giggled, then resumed her cleaning with the smile still lingering on her face.

"Tch…" Zoro sighed, still getting over his surprise of the woman bursting forth out of nowhere. Scratching the back of his neck, he sat back down, again lifting his bottle. "Sorry, I think I slammed it too hard," he commented, seeing a dented ring where he had set it down.

"Ah, we can fix it," the bartender reassured calmly. The music in the bar came to a slow halt as the song ended, everything continuing as if nothing happened. Scattered applause came from the people who were able to draw their attention back to the performance. The woman looked to the small stage, where a tall figure got up from the piano and bowed.

"Thank you for listening, everyone. I hope you enjoyed the music of Soul King~"

"Fufu, a nice performance today, Brook," the bartender commented as the man exited the stage.

"Thank you very much, Miss Robin! You are too kind," the tall man answered with a grin. "Now please excuse me, I have a next performance to go to. I will return tomorrow. Goodbye!" He turned and left the room through the staff-only door. Robin waved at his back as he vanished from the room.

"That guy's always busy," Zoro muttered, taking another sip of his drink. Robin nodded slowly, then glanced over at the man sitting before her.

"You should also find a way to occupy your time, Zoro."

"Yeah, I know," the man sighed, setting the bottle down. He paused, then spoke again. "There was no luck with jobs yet today. It's getting annoying. Maybe I should hunt criminals full-time."

"The police do get upset at that though, don't they?" Robin asked thoughtfully. "They don't normally pay you for doing that, is what you told me before."

"That's the problem." Zoro frowned, toying with the bottle set on the table.

"Mm…" The bartender nodded, deep in thought. "I don't know what other job is suitable for you…maybe a bodyguard?"

"I guess. Sounds kinda annoying still."

"Well, a job is a job," Robin commented. "There are always ups and downs. Maybe you should just give it a try. If you don't like it, then you can keep looking." She smiled kindly at the man. "Either way, I'm sure that you'll find something that you'll like."

Hearing the woman's advice and encouragement, Zoro cracked a grin. "Yeah…thanks."

Just then, the door to the hangout slammed open, revealing an out of breath Nami. She stalked in, clutching a few bills in her hand. The lighting was too dim to tell much, but Zoro thought that he saw blood on her knuckles. Nami stomped over to the swordsman, pulling his cheek.

"Zoro! Quit scaring away customers!" she yelled at him.

"Ow! Stop that," Zoro argued, pulling himself away. A hand flew up to rub his sore cheek. "That guy was a drunken idiot. He started it."

"It doesn't matter who started it!" Nami huffed, resting her fists on her hips. "Every time you come here, you always end up making a ruckus! Bringing swords in here and everything. Could you just leave those at home?"

"No way," the swordsman, grumbled, a hand falling on his swords protectively.

"You're impossible," the woman sighed. "Fine! Bring them for all I care! Just make sure you make these guys pay before they run away from your terrorizing. Otherwise, you'll be sorry if I have to handle it again!" Though Zoro was a tough guy, he froze at this comment, gulping nervously. No one messed with Nami. No one. Seeing that they had come to an understanding, Nami gave him a smug grin and then turned to Robin.

"Anyway, Robin, your shift's almost over, right? I'll take over the bar from here. But…could you do us a favor? Run to the store and buy some more cola. Franky ran out again."

"All right, no problem," Robin answered with a smile. Their boss was always demanding more cola…maybe because he drank it all when it was supposed to be for sale. Nami seemed annoyed at him habit, but Robin didn't seem to mind at all.

"Hm, guess I'll leave too," Zoro muttered, getting up and grabbing up his _sake_. He pulled some coins out of his pocket, counted enough for the drink, and placed it on the counter. "There's jobs to look for."

Robin smiled contently at this statement as she switched places with Nami, exiting the bar.

"Good, because I don't want to deal with you right now, Zoro," Nami replied making a face, though the slight smile showed that she was just teasing. She turned to organizing the shelves behind her and gave the two a wave.

"I'll be right back, Nami," Robin said, and she and Zoro walked out of the bar.

"Yep, see you."

"The store's that way, right?" Zoro asked when they stepped outside, looking to his right. Robin nodded. "Well then, I'm going the other way. See you later."

"Mhm. I hope you'll find the right job soon."

They parted ways, Zoro walking casually down the sidewalk, drink in hand. As he walked, he drank more of the alcohol.

"I think he's actually gaining on us."

"Is he? He really is a robo- whoa, look out!"

Two shots of wind blew past him, making him blink. "Hm?" He lowered the bottle slightly just in time to see two young men running away from him. What the…Just then, another person pushed past him, hitting his hand that was holding the bottle. Not able to recover it, he watched as the bottle crashed to the ground, shattering into pieces. Realizing what just happened, he suddenly reacted, drawing his swords. Surprisingly, the man who had bumped into him noticed his movement and somehow parried his attack with his shining shoe.

"The hell? What's your problem?" the blond haired man hissed.

"You made me drop my drink," the swordsman growled.

"Whoa! Ace, it's a swordsman! With three swords!" Zoro could hear the kid from earlier shout.

"What the shit? …Well, whatever this is, it's a good thing! Let's go before he chases us again, Luffy!"

"Right! Bye, three-swords and super-legs!"

"Hey, stop right there! I'm not done with you!" the blond haired man yelled at the running men, but they already turned the corner and disappeared. Clenching his teeth, he kicked the swords out of his face, trying to run after them again. Reacting quickly, Zoro jumped in his way again and barred his way with the swords.

"Get out of my way, moss head," the blond commanded solemnly.

"What did you call me, bastard?"

"You heard me. I have some business with those freeloaders that just got away, and thanks to you, I lost sight of them. So _kindly_ step aside!"

Zoro remained stationary, glaring at the man in front of him. "You spilled my _sake_ and called me a name. Like hell I'll step aside."

"Tch. Then I'll have to beat some sense into you, huh," the blond sighed coolly, pulling his cigarette out of his mouth and throwing it down on the ground. He stomped on the remains, putting it out. "Fine, I'll just have to fight my way through!"

"I'd like to see you try, with your hideous eyebrow," Zoro insulted back, pulling out his third sword and clutching it in his mouth.

"Oh you're just asking for it now!" The blond leaped at him, legs pulled back, ready to kick the living daylights out of the swordsman. Zoro narrowed his eyes.

"Three sword style…!"

"Cease this fight at once!" A new voice full of command made both of them pause. They stopped what they were about to do, blinking in confusion. Looking to the side, they spotted a man standing there with his arms crossed. He was dressed in a police uniform, though for some reason, wore a strange mask over his eyes. The man glared at both of the men with a fierce scowl. "You are obstructing the peace. If this continues any further, I will be obligated to interfere!"


	3. Red Flag

**3: "Red Flag"**

_Sirens blared furiously across the streets, as wheels screeched on pavement. Over the police radio's static, a lot of action could be heard._

_ "Three of us are in hot pursuit of the criminal, but he's moving fast. We need a strategy. Get the rest of the force to try and surround him. Drake, you there?"_

_ The man owning the radio leaned in the car's driver's seat, turning the com on. "Yeah. We're planning an ambush?"_

_ "That's what we're figuring out. You're on the other side of the city, aren't you? Here's what we'll do, then. We're driving this murderer towards the center of the city. Drake, you're near the police station, you were saying. You drive with your headlights off, try and sneak up on him. We'll have him surrounded in no time._

_ "Good plan," the deep voice spoke on the com._

_ "Ch-chief?"_

_ "I will join the chase as well, since I'm in the station. We've got the whole force against one serial killer, and we're hot on his trail. We'll succeed in catching him this time! Drake, depart."_

_ "Yes, Chief Akainu," Drake replied, starting his engine. At the corner of his eye, he saw the chief exiting the station and climbing into his own car. With a screech of the wheels, Drake drove off, Akainu following behind without missing a beat._

_ "I…I think I managed to slow him down more!" an officer announced over the radio. "Saw the man running – I fired a shot and I think it hit him!"_

_ "Excellent work," Akainu responded. "Continue pursuit. We've got him in our hands now."_

_ The plan was being executed swiftly. It was just a matter of time. Finally, this serial killer that has been threatening the city for so many months would be captured! In his hurry, Drake accelerated his car a little further…_

_ …Right into a crossing pedestrian. Right at the impact, he slammed on the breaks._

_ "Shit!" he hissed, fumbling for his radio as he opened his door. "I just hit someone!"_

_ "What!"_

_ "Drake, this is no time for such carelessness!"_

_ Damn it, jay-walkers! Especially ones who chose to walk around at night! When he jumped out of his car, he was confronted with someone's yelling voice. Two boys were crowded over what seemed to be the person that he had hit. He jogged over quickly. Both witnesses were crouched down looking at the victim, the look of terror on their faces._

_ "S-Sabo! Sabo, are you all right! You're fine, right! Answer me!" the younger crouching boy was sobbing, shaking the limp figure's shoulders._

_ "Sabo, hang in there!" the older one was yelling. He pulled the younger one's arms away. "Luffy, we have to get him to the hospital!"_

_ "B-but we don't have a car!"_

_ "We'll carry him! Hurry!"_

_ Drake stepped over, grabbing both of their shoulders to stop them and bending over the body. It was a young man with short-cropped blond hair – he looked peaceful, despite his many bruises. The cop quickly checked the boy's arm for a pulse, and exhaled with relief. He was alive. Drake looked to the two worried boys. "I have a car. We can get there faster." The boys blinked, their expressions slightly relieved._

_ "Right! Let's get carry him to the car then…!"_

_ "Drake! Leave them!" The booming voice of the chief commanded from behind, making the cop freeze. Drake slowly turned, staring at the massive man standing behind them with a shocked stare._

_ "Chief, what did you say…?"_

_ "We have more important things to look after right now," Akainu said darkly, staring at the unconscious boy with distaste._

_ "What did you say, bastard!" the older boy interjected walking up and glaring Akainu straight in the eyes. "There's nothing more important than this! He's my brother!"_

_ "Know your place, kid," the chief boomed back, with a glare that could petrify anyone. "I could have you arrested for calling a chief police officer names!" The boy didn't seem to be intimidated – in fact, he looked even angrier at this command. He seemed about ready to punch this guy, no matter what his status. Quickly, Drake interjected, pushing the boy back but giving Akainu a hard stare._

_ "I caused this. This is my responsibility."_

_ "Your _responsibility_ is to follow orders, Drake. And I order you to leave them."_

_ "…No. I refuse."_

_ "Then I will have you off the force!"_

_ "That's fine," Drake said coolly. He turned his back, picking up the fallen boy and carrying him to the car._

_ "Leave him, Drake!"_

_ The cop ignored the command, turning to the two boys. "Get in the car." Without hesitation, the boys hopped on. The older one couldn't help but stop and turn to the chief one last time, throwing a quick death glare before climbing in the vehicle._

_ As they drove off, Drake turning on the siren for a faster passage, Akainu's eyes narrowed at the retreating car._

_ "…So be it." The powerful man climbed back into his own car, continuing the plan._

_ The serial killer got away that night._

"High…ay…cident…zzzt…30…"

The police radio buzzed away, the sound filling up the small area of the car. Drake sat in the driver's seat, listening silently. Besides some car accidents, the day was starting out rather peacefully. "Hmph, that's rare," the man breathed, opening his eyes and glancing at the noisy device. With the mob starting to get active again, and not one, but two unidentified serial killers at large running around in the same city, it was really a surprise to experience a normal morning. Whatever "normal" meant, anyway.

_'Good news, I suppose,'_ he thought. Or was he supposed to be tense at the silence? Maybe all of these criminals were plotting right at this moment, about to break the temporary peace. When that happens, the citizens will be in danger. He shook his head at that thought. No use worrying. He just had to be prepared for anything thrown at him. That was what it meant to be a true police officer. With a sigh, he turned the key to the car, and the motor started. _'Since nothing's happening, might as well grab something to eat,'_ he told himself.

After a few minutes of driving, he arrived at the small, old convenient store. His visit was extremely short – he walked in, grabbed a pre-wrapped sandwich, and set it on the countertop along with money in exact change. The man at the counter studied him with some interest. His strange mask over his eyes that looked a bit like glasses were probably what drew attention.

"You're that X Drake, aren't ya?" the cashier questioned with a grin. Of course he was well known around this city, maybe because of that incident a year ago…

"I am. So?"

The cashier shrugged casually. "Nothing. Enjoy," he said, taking the money and pushing the sandwich back towards the man. Drake frowned, taking the food and walking out without another word. The man at the cashier resumed reading his magazine. As the ex-cop walked out of the store, a pedestrian passed him. He was dressed in casual wear, holding a can of cold coffee. What caught Drake's attention was that this man wore surgical gloves on his hands. A doctor? The pedestrian seemed to recognize the man, giving him a small grin.

"Mister Drake."

"Do I know you?"

"…Not at all," the strange man muttered, his smirk growing. Without saying anything else, he walked off, sipping the last of his coffee. Drake watched him go with a frown. Indeed, a lot of people recognized him. That wasn't a great thing to know. Sighing and shaking his head, he opened the door to his car.

Drake sat in the driver's seat, one of his windows rolled down as he drove around. He had eaten his sandwich hastily after he bought it. Still listening in on the police conversations, loud voices outside caught his attention.

"Hey, stop right there! I'm not done with you!"

The man frowned, stopping his car for a moment and looking out the open window. A man was standing at the sidewalk, yelling at someone down the street, but was blocked by another man.

"Get out of my way, moss head."

"What did you call me, bastard?"

Drake sighed. Seemed like a fight starting out. And the so called "moss head" had swords in his hands, of all things. This was ridiculous. Shaking his head, he pulled over, parking across the street from the quarrel.

"You heard me. I have some business with those freeloaders that just got away, and thanks to you, I lost sight of them. So _kindly_ step aside!"

"You spilled my _sake_ and called me a name. Like hell I'll step aside."

"Tch. Then I'll have to beat some sense into you, huh. Fine, I'll just have to fight my way through!"

By the time Drake got out of his car, the moss headed man held his swords ready as the blond gentleman ran forward.

"Three sword style…!"

"Cease this fight at once!" Drake commanded. Immediately, the two combatants stopped, turning their heads to see him standing there sternly. "You are obstructing the peace. If this continues any further, I will be obligated to interfere!"

"You're…" the blond muttered, lowering his legs. Drake didn't answer, still glaring at them. The two of them seemed to recognize his face. Then, they would also recognize what would happen next if they wouldn't pipe down. Inside of his car, the radio emitted more static conversation.

"Bzzzt…Drake…a…street…on it…"

The moss head frowned, staring back for a few moments. Finally he sighed, sheathing his swords. "…Fine. As long as you give me money for another bottle, weird eyebrow."

"What! I don't owe you anything! There wasn't anything left in that damn bottle!"

"There was! You're just blind in your one eye there."

The blond was about to argue back, but then groaned. "This is stupid, arguing with a complete idiot. I'm going back."

"HEY!"

Drake watched the two walk off bickering with a scowl, disapproving of their idiotic behavior. That solved the problem. They wouldn't start a fight again for a while. Not until the police all dispersed again. Speaking of them, it was about time for Drake to leave. He walked quickly back to his car, starting the engine. Once it warmed, he drove his car out of there in a hurry. Sirens grew loud as some police cars rounded onto the street, catching a glimpse of Drake's car. Their speakers turned on immediately.

"X Drake, you are charged for impersonating the police! Stop your car now and-…"

_'Like hell I would,'_ the ex-cop thought with a scowl, stomping on the gas. The car screeched its way out of there.

The rest of the sun had set, marking the end of the day. Drake had spent the day driving through the city, running his self-assigned patrols. The police had stopped chasing him ages ago. They had no lead to him, and it seemed that they had better things to do instead of chasing a fake police officer. They probably thought that he was mentally challenged. Drake didn't really mind, as long as he could do his work.

As he drove, he ran through the information on the two serial killers at large in his mind. _'Both usually commit their crimes in the dark of night. Bodies are found in the morning. No one has any idea what these murderers look like. The first commits his murders more openly. The second is so subtle that the police and some citizens still doubt that he exists. But they both have a distinctive way of leaving their victims. The first, who has existed for much longer, seems to have changed his style of killing once. This change seems to have happened after that night a year ago, when police were successful in chasing and wounding him, though he escaped capture. Before, the victims were strategically "taken apart" limb by limb, organ by organ, and their bodies slashed brutally. Now, it seems they are only slashed brutally. The second, who has only appeared these past few months, makes victims drop dead without any wound. Victims' causes of death were suffocation or injection of a fatal chemical. After said cause of death, autopsy showed that one organ was removed from each of their bodies. Most commonly the heart is the one missing, though another organ is taken from time to time. Both of these serial killers seem to target criminals more as victims.'_ Drake frowned thoughtfully. _'Both seem so similar, especially the murder scenes of serial killer number one's older murders, and the scenes of serial killer number two. Now that I think of it, the second started his crimes about a month after the first was nearly captured. Are they possibly connected?'_

Before he could think more, his attention was taken from him as he noticed something at the corner of his eye. Looking over, he could see a woman with bright pink hair standing near a wall. One look told him that she was vandalizing property with spray paint. The artistic splutter of paint on the wall looked strikingly similar to the other main ones that Drake had seen before. _'This girl…is she the culprit for all of those times?'_ Interested, he pulled over near the spot she was standing and got out of the car.

"Hey, you," he called, walking up to the woman. Surprised by the suddenly voice, obviously not seeing his car approach, the woman's head snapped toward the voice. Immediately, she froze up.

"Shit!" she hissed under her breath.

"Are you the one responsible for most of the vandalism in this city?" Drake demanded. The girl hesitated as if she was unsure of what he was asking. Before anything else could be uttered, a distinct sound blasted across the area. Both of them flinched back, surprised to hear it.

It was the sound of gunshot.

"Oh no, a gun fight!" the woman exclaimed. As soon as Drake turned his head swiftly to look, he heard a noise of hurried footfalls. Turning his head back, he realized that the woman had bolted for it once he was distracted, though not before tossing a can of spray paint at his car and setting off the alarm.

"That girl is definitely the one vandalizing property," he muttered under his breath, grabbing the remote to his car. He pressed a button and the car alarm silenced. Right afterwards, he could hear the rush of multiple cars as they scattered like terrified ants, splitting up on every intersection. Drake scowled, sensing the guilt behind these drivers. "If someone wasn't shot, they wouldn't have drove away so quickly upon hearing an alarm!" Drake rushed to his car, restarting the engine and driving to where he thought he heard the gunshot.

The wounded man was not hard to find. A body was lying on an open alley, a pool of blood starting to form underneath. It was a tough looking man – he was gasping at the pain, still trying to stand to his feet. Drake rushed out of his car and stopped him.

"You are in no condition to move," he said to the man. The man did not answer, still gasping and avoiding eye contact. Drake spotted the man's cellphone lying on the ground nearby. He picked it up and dialed an emergency number. After two rings, someone picked up. He didn't wait for the operator to speak.

"A man has been shot. He needs immediate medical attention."

"Understood, please wait while the hospital is notified," a female voice droned from the other line. "May we please have your name, sir-?"

As she uttered that question, Drake was busy wiping the phone clean of his prints with his shirt, and after thoroughly making sure no evidence remained, he let it clatter freely to the ground. The line stayed active, so that the location could be tracked. With this done, Drake lingered no longer. He drove away silently into the darkening night.


	4. Big Eater

**4: "Big Eater"**

"P-please wait, ma'am!" A waiter called nervously as the woman walked out of the private room carrying her abnormally large bags of leftovers. She turned her head, staring at the man with an intimidating gaze.

"What do you want?" she demanded, making the waiter even more uncomfortable.

"Please pay for your meal with real money!"

"Huuuh?" The woman narrowed her eyes at him threateningly. "You think I would pull some stunt like that? I'm too busy being me to act like an idiot!"

"B-but, these bills you gave us…they have no watermark…"

"Well then you're fucking blind! Go check it again," she snarled, causing the waiter to back away from her. Despite her defiance, she knew in her mind that those bills were fakes. _'I wouldn't think that they would catch on that quickly, damn it. I'd better get outta here soon…'_

There were more and more waiters crowding near her, claiming the same fact that the first waiter pointed out. The woman, instinctively, argued back fiercely. Finally, a clear, loud voice could be heard over everyone.

"Hey!" the voice shouted. "Pay for your meal, you-" The voice stopped abruptly as the woman turned her head towards it. There was a man with blond hair standing there, now silent and only staring. What was his problem?

She stiffened, more than ready to start yet another argument. "Hah?" she demanded.

"…Nothing! We hope you had a good meal, lovely lady~," the man sang, surprising the customer. She was so confused…was he easily attracted to her or something? What a loser.

"Oh…okay. See ya then," she said and headed through the restaurant and out the door.

"Please come again~!" The man's voice could be heard calling to her as she exited the building. Right when she stepped outside, she stood still for a moment, wondering what the hell just happened.

"I don't even know, but that was convenient," she muttered, then grinned humorously to herself. "Maybe I _will_ come here more, if he really didn't mind that." With a soft chuckle, she went on her way. Right when she stepped out of the direct entrance to the building, the chef guy burst out through the door, running the opposite way she was turned.

"PUNKS! IF YOU'RE NOT BEAUTIFUL WOMEN, GET BACK HERE AND PAY FOR YOUR MEAAAL!"

The woman blinked and turned, staring at the quickly receding figure. "The fuck…" she groaned, rubbing her temples. "On second thought, maybe I won't come back. I feel like that guy will drop my IQ…" Shaking her head, she turned and continued walking down the sidewalk. "But damn, the food there is pretty good."

When she climbed up the stairs to her apartment, she paused at the door right next to hers. The door was brightly colored with different shades of purple paint, and a sign hanging at eyelevel simply read: "Fortunes." Staring at it for a moment, she shrugged and knocked. "Hey, Hawkins." There was no answer, but then again, there never was from this person. With a frown, she reached for the doorknob and found it unlocked. Typical. "I'm coming in." The door opened to the view of many decorations – most were pretty creepy looking. A lot of dolls made of straw hung around the place, their blank, glued on eyeballs staring at whoever dared to enter. The woman shrugged passed these strange dolls, being used to them by now. A man with long blond hair sat at the desk at the end of the room, staring at the long tarot cards in his hand. His eyes flickered to the guest for a second before resuming their study.

"Jewelry Bonney. Welcome."

"Yeah, hey," Bonney greeted with a bored expression. She leaned her head to the side, attempting to peek past the tarot cards to get a glance at the man, though soon gave up. "Just stopped by to thank you for the fake bills. They helped to some extent." Hawkins only nodded. Bonney frowned, ignoring the awkwardness and the creepy vibe in the room.

"I do not see any unfortunate mark upon you today," the man noted, still not looking up from his cards. "Your life will continue without problem."

"Okay," Bonney muttered, crossing her arms. She never really believed in his readings, but whatever. Since he read her fortune randomly and for free, she didn't care much. Her eyes fell to something lying on the table. Another doll lay there motionlessly, and looked as if it had been firmly grabbed. A small, shining blade was sticking out from its stomach. The thing that caught her attention was that the knife was dirtied with fresh blood. She walked closer and examined it with a strange expression. "What's that for?"

"A customer," Hawkins answered simply, finally looking away from his cards and down at the sad doll, "one that had just exited this room a few minutes earlier. I have seen the mark of death upon him today. Yet, his fortune seemed high. He may be able to cheat his fate yet."

"Mm, cool…"

"He also rudely forgot to pay. So I placed a curse upon him."

Bonney blinked at her neighbor, then tried to hold in laughter. That statement just sounded so ridiculous, she couldn't help herself. Were they living in the 1600s or something? Hawkins raised his dull gaze to her, indifferent to her humor.

"Tonight, he will encounter his greatest fear. This on top of his mark of death, his survival is questionable."

"Oh…well…that's…interesting…" Bonney chuckled, still trying to hold down her laughter. It wasn't easy, but she managed to settle back down again after a moment. Hawkins nodded, his eyes wandering back to the cards. Bonney coughed, remembering her purpose. "Right, anyway, I managed to nab some food for you. Just showing my thanks." She lifted up her one last bag of food – she ate the rest of it on the way back – and placed it on the table carefully, next to all of his stuff. Hawkins followed the action, once again peering from behind his cards. He looked surprised, or as surprised as he could look while still holding a dull expression.

"You are considerate."

"Yeah no problem, I try. Anyway, I've gotta go out and grab some stuff. Later." With a wave, she walked out of the strange room, closing the door behind her.

"Buying all of these," Bonney announced, placing an armful of different colored spray paint cans onto the counter. This shabby convenient store was the place closest to everything, making it extremely convenient, living up to its name. It was quite old looking, with flickering fluorescent lights and all that. At least good music was playing through the worn speakers. _Yohohohoho~_ A remix of a strange voice was being played. Weird, but still somehow catchy, at least. The cashier looked up from his magazine, adjusting his thick-framed glasses.

"Huh, an artistic one, aren't ya?" he asked with a crooked grin. Bonney shrugged, obviously annoyed at his nosiness. The cashier chuckled but scanned the items, putting them all in one large plastic bag and handing it to her. "Enjoy."

Grabbing the bag without hesitation, she walked out of the shop and headed to her destination. Once she arrived at the place, she stood still for a moment, staring at a giant slate of cement wall in front of her. The train station was nearby, and occasionally one of the trains zoomed past, whipping up the wind. The woman smirked, eyes following the fast-moving train. This new piece by her was sure to grab attention. She flipped her plastic bag upside down, and all of the spray paint bottles clattered to the ground with loud metallic clanks. "All right, time to get working!"

Bonney painted as the sun set, carefully displaying the visual that she had planned in her mind. So focused was she that she failed to notice anything that was happening around her. She didn't notice the car pulling up behind her, or the man getting out of the car. It wasn't until hearing the voice did she react.

"Hey, you," someone called. Instinctively, Bonney turned her head, then froze at the sight of the man that was approaching her.

"Shit!" she hissed under her breath, recognizing the infamous man. _'That's X Drake, isn't it?'_

"Are you the one responsible for most of the vandalism in this city?" Drake demanded. Bonney hesitated, not wanting to say anything. What luck that she would encounter Drake, of all people! The guy who patrols the roads at night like he thinks that he's some kind of superhero…Before she could think of an excuse, a sudden sound of gunshot echoed through the area. This stunned both of them for a moment. Bonney stood, confused, but then quickly snapped out of it, thinking fast.

"Oh no, a gun fight!" Seeing Drake turn his head at the distraction, Bonney immediately took off. She sneered at the man's car. _'Fuck you, fake superhero!'_ she thought, throwing the can of spray paint that she still held in her hand at the car as hard as she could. This set off a noisy car alarm, and Bonney couldn't help but grin with satisfaction, making her escape.


	5. Magician

Quick note: I hope my reading tarot cards is correct, or at least tolerable. If not, I'm sorry.

Also thanks for the three people who reviewed at this point. You encouragement was much appreciated~

* * *

><p><strong>5: "Magician"<strong>

The man lay on the giant soft cushion next to his desk – his makeshift bed. His hands were folded neatly on his stomach as he stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. The dolls strewn all over the ceiling surrounded him, staring down with emotionless, black eyes. He didn't seem to notice them, or think their gaze frightening at all. Rather, he seemed to see past them and through anything solid that his eyes fell upon. His mind was forever racing; forever seeing the unseen, and forever observing what others fail to observe.

_'It shall be an interesting day, when the sun rises,'_ he predicted as he laid there, his head surrounded by the complex tangle of his long blond hair. As soon as he thought that, small rays of light poked through his shuttered window, signifying the coming dawn. The man exhaled slowly, digging his elbows into the cushion and sitting himself up. He had not slept a wink again, though he did not feel tired. It was strange how that worked – apparently he was in no need of rest, with this mind of his. Turning his head slowly, he faced the filtered light of the sun with his usual dull frown. A start of a new day…and the continuation of their unique lives. Sitting upright a minute or two longer, the man finally climbed to his feet, beginning the long day.

In a few hours, there was a knock at the door. As expected – a customer had ordered something to be picked up on this very day. The man sat in his usual spot at his desk, studying the long tarot cards lay down in front of him, along with the cards he held in his hand. "Enter."

The door creaked open, and another man entered. His crazy long blond hair brushed across everything as he stepped inside. "Hawkins."

"Welcome, Killer," Hawkins greeted, though didn't look up at the visitor. The thing that did make him look up was the sound of footsteps that followed the customer.

"Che, Killer this is the home of the shitty fraud you were talking about? Un-fucking-believable."

"He is not shitty," Killer sighed, looking back at the figure that was following him closely behind. "This is the best forger in the city. He's the one I go to for all of the things we need."

"Hmph, but what's with this lame get-up? Fucking ridiculous."

Killer shook his head at the complaints, but addressed them no further. He returned his attention to the man at the desk, ignoring any further comments. "We're picking up the IDs I requested." Hawkins nodded, reaching under his desk with his one free hand. From there he pulled out two mint-looking IDs. Killer and his companion's faces were in the laminated cards, confirming that they were staff members. Killer reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of cash and exchanging it for the IDs. "Thanks."

"It is no problem at all. Thank you for your business," Hawkins replied politely.

"Aargh!"

The exclamation made both of them look over. Some strings of the hanging dolls were snagged onto Killer's friend's clothes and hair. He struggled for a moment, then found his grip onto the strings, yanking them all from their positions. "God! This is irritating as fuck!"

"Kid!" Killer looked to Hawkins to apologize, but frowned when he saw the man smile slightly.

"Please bring those over," Hawkins said, eying the dangling dolls that Kid had grabbed by the string.

"Hah? You talking to me?"

"I had been about to ask, however you have conveniently given me an excuse to read your fortune," Hawkins replied with a pleasant stare. "I will charge you but it will not be much. You must hear what I have to tell you."

Kid stared at the man with a scowl. "Che, not free? Then forget it, shitty fraud."

"Hey, just go ahead and do it," Killer interjected at his friend, making Kid glance at him with a threatening raised eyebrow. "We have money to pay for it. Won't be a hindrance."

"What? You believe in this fortune telling shit, Killer?" Kid hissed. "You come here way too often…" The dull stares from both Hawkins and Killer finally made him hesitate. "Gah, fine! Tell my fucking fortune then!" he groaned in defeat, stepping forward. He dropped the dolls onto the table in a messy jumble and sat down. "Hurry it up."

Despite his demand, Hawkins shuffled the cards calmly, taking his time before spreading the deck onto the table, clearing away the dolls to the side for the time being. "Pick three cards, face down. Do not look. Set them down in a row as you picked them." Kid grudgingly did as he was told. Hawkins closed his eyes, his hand floating above the three mystery cards chosen, as if he were reading them as he sat there. "I will tell your fortune. The first card, your past; the second, the present; and the third, your future."

"Yeah whatever, cut the shit and get on with it."

Hawkins opened his eyes, and flipped over the first card on its side. The revealed card showed a great work of art, depicting a male and female, holding hands. The bottom of the card read "The Lovers." However, the card was flipped upside down. Reversed. Hawkins stared at it dully. "Your past contained many mixed feelings," he began. "You had someone close to you – or someone you kept close, with a bitter and untrusting bond. Willingly or unwillingly, you eventually turned your back in a dark betrayal. Since then you have never seen this person again." He glanced up, seeing the shock in the customer's eyes. "Am I correct?"

"You…! How do you know-"

Taking this as a yes, Hawkins nodded, continuing. "You were never trusting, but this person was beginning to trust you. You brutally shattered that so-called trust. But you have since moved on, refusing to look back." Pausing at the stunned silence, he then proceeded, flipping the next card. A set of three sticks was depicted on this card that faced upright. The description read "Three of Wands." Hawkins kept his stone-like expression. "Ah. Since then, your business has been thriving. You are rising up in power, with a trusting bond that you have created." His eyes flickered to Killer, who was hovering over behind Kid, listening with interest. "Your plans and ambitions are great. With the past thrown behind you, you are striving and are eager for more achievements. Things are looking up and you hope for a good future."

"Che. Two out of three," Kid muttered quietly, not wanting to admit it. His arms were crossed and he looked away, not wanting to make eye contact. Though, his eyes flickered to the man, wanting to end this. "And? The future?"

Upon this question, Hawkins reached over with an air of suspense, slowly flipping the last card over. The card revealed a picture of five sharp blades, also faced upright. The bottom read "Five of Swords."

"You will fail," Hawkins stated with an air of indifference. "Though you believe that you will succeed, you will suffer from a sudden fall. It will be unexpected, with your delusions in mind."

"Bullshit!" Kid hissed, banging his fists on the table. He glared at the fortune teller with a gaze full of venom, though Hawkins stared back with unchanged dull eyes. "We won't fail. Our plan is near perfect!"

Hawkins met his gaze for a moment, then looked down to the three cards, picking them up and shuffling the deck. "If you will not accept fate given in the cards, it is none of my responsibility to convince you. Though, I have one last test." Kid stared, still with his furious glare, but curiosity flickered in his eyes.

"And that would be?"

The fortune teller took the dolls that he had set aside and spread them out carefully across the table. "Pick a doll and clench it in your fist."

The customer hesitated, but not wanting to show any mercy, an arm shot forward, grabbing a doll randomly. "What point is thi- Aargh!" With that exclamation, he jumped up from his seat and flung the doll back on the table as if it was on fire. Crimson blood dripped from his open hand. Hawkins stared at the doll, seeing the small blade protruding from its torso.

"I see. This is a bad omen, and a confirmation. The mark of death is upon you." Kid grabbed the collar of the fortune teller's shirt with his unwounded hand, glaring with clenched teeth.

"The fuck is that? You really are a shitty fraud after all, you bastard!"

"Kid!" Killer warned, touching the enraged man's shoulder. Kid scowled, not moving for a minute. Finally he sighed heatedly, letting go of Hawkins' collar.

"Whatever! Let's just get the fuck out of here." He turned, grabbing Killer by the arm.

"Kid, we didn't pay him-"

"I'm not paying a dirty fraud!" With that, Kid opened the door and stepped outside. He slammed the door behind him, but not before looking back and shooting the fortune teller a fierce sneer. Hawkins sat calmly on his seat, as if nothing had happened.

_'As I had predicted, he did not pay,'_ he thought plainly, as if that was the only thing that he was concerned about. He stared down at the bloodied doll that was thrown in front of him before closing his eyes. Under his breath, he uttered unique words, in a strange language unknown to most. With this chanting, the room seemed to become filled with a dark feeling. The sun that peeked from the window achieved nothing in its attempt to penetrate the growing cold atmosphere. This energy built up more and more the longer he spoke, until he abruptly silenced himself. With that, the room returned to its calm, welcoming atmosphere. Hawkins opened his eyes, staring at the closed door. _'I place a black curse upon you, Eustass Kid. Tonight, you will meet your nightmare, and your world will be plunged into a state of fear and anxiety. There will be no escaping this fate.'_ His gaze lowered to the cards that he held loosely in his hands. One had fallen out, face up. "Judgment." Hawkins sighed, gathering the remaining dolls on the table. _'Though doubtful that this situation will be resolved in the near future, once you have overcome this nightmare, the curse shall be broken.'_ He stood, walking to the middle of the room to string the decorations back in their respectable places.

Later that day, another knock came at the door. "Hey, Hawkins," the muffled familiar voice of his neighbor called. Hawkins made no answer, absorbed in his cards. There was a pause, then, "I'm coming in." The door opened and a woman stepped into the room. Hawkins merely glanced up for a split second before continuing his study.

"Jewelry Bonney. Welcome."

"Yeah, hey." There was a pause when she tried to stare at the man's face, but gave up easily. "Just stopped by to thank you for the fake bills. They helped to some extent." Hawkins nodded. More silence followed.

"I do not see any unfortunate mark upon you today," the man finally noted, still not looking up from his cards. "Your life will continue without problem."

"Okay…what's that for?"

Hawkins took the comment as another time to look away from his cards, and looked down at the bloodied doll that was still lying on the table. It wasn't that he forgot about it; he just saw no point in moving it. "A customer," he answered, "one that had just exited this room a few minutes earlier. I have seen the mark of death upon him today. Yet, his fortune seemed high. He may be able to cheat his fate yet."

"Mm, cool…"

"He also rudely forgot to pay. So I placed a curse upon him."

This was met with silence, then a muffled snickering from Bonney, apparently finding that information funny. Hawkins didn't mind it, staring at the woman. "Tonight, he will encounter his greatest fear. This on top of his mark of death, his survival is questionable."

"Oh…well…that's…interesting…" Bonney chuckled, still holding back laughter. After a moment, it finally died down. "Right, anyway, I managed to nab some food for you. Just showing my thanks." She lifted up a bag of food and placed it gingerly onto the table. Hawkins blinked, eying the food. Jewelry Bonney brought back food? Without eating it? He was now extremely suspicious.

"You are considerate."

"Yeah no problem, I try. Anyway, I've gotta go out and grab some stuff. Later."

As soon as the woman exited, Hawkins opened the bag, taking out the Styrofoam takeout box. He opened it, revealing a tiny blob of rice in the corner, one noodle strand, and half of a drumstick. Hawkins couldn't help but break his indifferent expression and smile with mild humor at this. _'Of course. As I predicted of Jewelry Bonney.'_

A few minutes since his last visitor, Hawkins resumed looking at the messages of the cards. They had endless fortunes to tell him, and he always sat and listened to their stories. At one point, his gaze wandered around the room, falling onto the stash of his products he kept under his desk. Frowning, he scanned the contents. _'It is wise to produce more,'_ he thought, looking at the bills. After giving a bunch of them to Bonney, he didn't have much left in stock. Fortunately, there weren't any other custom orders he had to work on, so he had time to make more general bills. There were many who just stopped by to request them spontaneously, anyway. Having the request ready at their first visit was convenient for everyone. _'A supply of materials must be bought,'_ he reminded himself, getting up from the chair to his feet. Walking to the closet hidden in the corner by all of his decorations, he pulled out his coat and walked out of the room. From a string around his neck he pulled out his apartment key, locking the door. This action was only performed when he went out somewhere, which rarely happened. Tucking the key back underneath his shirt, Hawkins departed.

The convenient store was empty except for the cashier, who was a strange looking man. He seemed preoccupied with a phone call at the moment. Hawkins browsed around for a while, finding his materials. By the time he got to the counter, he was carrying many things. The cashier stared curiously at the things set on the counter through his thick-framed glasses. "Wow, what's all this for?"

"Work," Hawkins said simply, staring with indifference. The cashier paused for a moment, then shrugged, scanning the items and putting them into bags.

"Here ya go."

Hawkins nodded, taking the things and paying before exiting the store. He walked along the sidewalk, though gradually he slowed down, until he stopped at the corner. His head turned to the setting sun, and he stared with a calm frown. _'These streets will soon be thrown into chaos,'_ he thought, recalling the prediction of the cards. He lingered a moment with interest, but then willed his legs to continue moving. _'I am but the prophet. I see the visions, yet do not enter them. I cannot, and will not, interfere with what the cards decide, for that would be unwise.'_

He walked home, the cooling air drifting around him.


	6. Roar of the Sea

**6: "Roar of the Sea"**

No day was just average for someone like Scratchman Apoo. He always got to meet very many interesting people. If he chose to, he would have become an outstanding informant for anyone searching for answers. However, his observations were strictly for his own entertainment – that was the decision that he had made. His job was usually part time, though on this day, he was called to cover all shifts, since the others had called in sick or on leave. He liked this job, despite low pay and inconsistency. The one thing that he really liked was meeting and chatting with customers, friendly or not. This shop had seemingly evolved into a tiny supermarket, with everyone of the city depending on it for a quick thing to buy. Because of this, the shop had nearly everything in stock, and from this, a wide array of customers appear from all around.

Since he was working at this job the entire day, the cashier brought his laptop to use to efficiently spend his time. He spent the first few early business hours on toying around with any links he found appealing until many downloads were loading at once – mostly some pirated mp3 files that Apoo planned on playing with. However, he predicted that the torrents would take a while, so he also brought along a stack of magazines to occupy his time. He watched a moment as the list of downloads were displayed before him, then assumed reading his magazine as he waited for them to finish. Maybe he started downloading too many too soon…oh well, he had the time. After a little while of silence, a customer entered. One look told Apoo that this was a working man – he looked extremely weary, possibly from lack of sleep. The customer yawned, covering his mouth with a gloved hand. Those gloves also caught attention – they were the type that surgeons worked with. Was he a doctor then? That would explain some things.

The man set some strange, seemingly unrelated products on the counter to buy – a can of chilled coffee, a lock, and a bunch of frozen fish. Apoo raised his eyebrow.

"This your breakfast?" he joked. The man smirked at him.

"Only the coffee."

"Haha, alright then," the cashier laughed, scanning the items. As he did this, he eyed the man's hands as he reached in his pocket to pull out some cash. "What's with those gloves?"

The customer blinked, holding up his hands to look as if he didn't find anything unusual. "Oh. Part of my work. I wear them so much I forget they're there."

"You a surgeon? Don't tell me you've touched the inside of bodies with those gloves, man."

The man chuckled. "Don't worry. They're _probably_ still clean."

Apoo smirked, assuming that he was joking and held the bag of stuff out to him. "Enjoy." The customer nodded, taking his things and walking out of the store.

The next customer made Apoo close his laptop upon his entering. A man in a police uniform – a figure that everyone living on these streets recognized.

"You're that X Drake, aren't ya?" Apoo questioned with a grin as he watched the man set down a wrapped sandwich to pay for. Drake studied the cashier with his signature piercing gaze.

"I am. So?"

Apoo shrugged casually, accepting the money presented to him. "Nothing. Enjoy." With that, Drake took the sandwich and was on his way. Once the man was long gone, Apoo smirked, opening his laptop again. That ex-cop sure was an intimidating fellow. Way more intimidating than the actual police officers right now. If he saw the laptop's screen, there would have definitely been some trouble. Luckily, the crisis was avoided. This time.

"…stopped bleeding already. It's nothing I can't handle so fucking forget about it already," a red-haired man was complaining as he walked into the shop about a good half-hour after Drake had departed. He was talking to his companion with abnormally long blonde hair who had pulled him into the store.

"You still need to get it treated," the companion urged insistently, "or it might get infected. It wasn't cleaned or anything yet, right? Antibiotic ointment'll help, too…"

"Che, quit worrying so much!"

That comment was ignored as the blond went ahead and scanned the shelves, reaching for a box of standard bandages and also finding the ointment he mentioned. After picking out the things he needed, he walked with his still-complaining friend to the counter, but not before stopping again as he spotted a shelf full of dried spaghetti. The red head, seeing his pause, sighed with slight annoyance.

"Really, man? Not again."

The blond continued to ignore him, grabbing for one of the thin boxes. Now satisfied, he proceeded to the counter, setting down the three boxed items. At first Apoo couldn't see what they had been talking about when they entered; but now as they approached, he saw the red haired man's hand and spotted a dried spot of blood on his palm.

"Nasty accident?" he mused, picking up the items to scan.

"None of your fucking business."

Apoo couldn't help but grin at the red head's irritation. He seemed bitter about the subject. Seeing the cashier's smirk, the customer narrowed his eyes, shooting him an extremely irritated glare. The blond didn't seem to notice the tense vibes, picking up the scanned items and paying. "Thanks."

"No problem," Apoo answered pleasantly, though still staring at the red haired man with a fixed taunting grin. The customer seemed like he wanted to beat the crap out of the smug bastard, but was pulled away before he could do such a thing. Apoo saw them off with a little, mocking wave, the grin still plastered on his face.

The next customer was a tall, lanky man, sporting an afro. Upon his entrance, Apoo peeked up from his laptop that he had in the corner of the cashier's table. This man walked directly for a carton of milk, setting it down to be paid for. When he got to the counter, it was luck that he noticed the screen of the laptop. Letting someone discover the crime was bad, though it seemed as if the gentleman didn't mind it.

"Yohoho~ Do you like music, young man?" the customer asked.

"You could say that," Apoo answered with a smile and a shrug.

"That is great! I am a musician myself, you see."

"Oh really?"

"Yes~ Oh, if you would like a demo, I have been carrying one around! Here you go!" Without waiting for his gift to be accepted or rejected, he pulled a CD out of his coat and slid it onto the table. "Free of charge!"

"Huh, thanks man," Apoo laughed, accepting the disc. The tall man nodded.

"Listen to it well! Now please excuse me, I must go to my work place. Yohohoho~" He tipped his hat and was on his way. Apoo examined the CD for a moment before booting it up with his computer. The music consisted of a mix of violin, piano, and the tall gentleman's strange laughter.

"Haha! Whoa, this is interesting," Apoo chuckled. He stared thoughtfully into space for a moment, then uploaded these demos onto a music mixing file. "Could use some beat to it!" After a long while of toying with the songs, he felt accomplished enough as to burn his new remix into another disc and playing it throughout the store. Just for the day. The gentleman wouldn't mind, right?

Right after he set the music new up, another customer entered. She seemed to know exactly what she came in for, calmly turning to her left and grabbing as many packs of cola as she could, setting them on the countertop. Apoo raised his eyebrows at the pile of drinks, then stared questioningly at the woman.

"A party?"

"Fu fu, no, that's not the case," the customer replied with a pleasant smile, though didn't explain further. Apoo shrugged, not caring much as he scanned the items for the lady. As he did this, she had a moment of silence to piece together what sort of music was playing in the background. Listening to it after that moment, she giggled, a humorous smile appearing on her lips. "This song…"

"Huh? What about it?"

"…It's nothing," the woman laughed softly, shaking her head as she accepted the colas and set down some cash. "Thank you." She gave a last kindly smile before walking off.

"Anytime~" Apoo answered, watching the woman exit the store. Once she left, the cashier stared into space for a little while, absorbed in random thoughts. Finally, he glanced at the laptop by his side. The downloading mp3s still haven't finished yet. _'Knew it was a bad idea to run all of them,'_ he thought with a frown. He stared at the computer, then shrugged, not bothering to fix the problem. _'Oh well, it's not like I'm bored or anything.'_ With that thought, Apoo resumed reading his magazine, continuing his job as supervisor of the shop like a more responsible employee.

It was a little while until the next customer appeared. Apoo didn't look up as she entered, though could see her at the corner of his eyes. She headed straight to a shelf in the corner of the store, scooping up a bunch of items. Her loud, distinct footsteps made it to the counter, where she placed the products. Now that they weren't blurred by Apoo's peripheral vision, he could see that they were several cans of spray paint.

"Buying all of these," the woman announced plainly, turning her head away with a look of some kind of annoyance as if she was frustrated and in a hurry. Though she seemed like the type of person to always appear to be in a bad mood.

"Huh, an artistic one, aren't ya?" he asked with a crooked grin. The customer shrugged, seemingly more irritated at the question. _'Touchy, isn't she?'_ The cashier chuckled at his thought as he proceeded to do his job. "Enjoy." The woman took the bag that he offered and quickly stormed out. _'Hm~ she must be hard to deal with,'_ Apoo mused to himself, resting his chin on his palm as he resumed reading. _'Remind me of- oh, wait…'_ He blinked, suddenly remembering something. "Ah shit," he muttered, getting to his feet. There he took a second to stretch his cramped legs, since they were barely used the entire day. After that, he walked over to the phone on the wall, quickly dialing a number. The line rang twice before getting picked up.

"Yeah?" a cranky deep voice demanded through the phone.

"Hey, it's me," Apoo replied.

"Mister Apoo! Where are you?" the man on the line exclaimed, mostly sounding surprised but also a bit angry. "The action's starting soon!"

"Er yeah, 'bout that…" Apoo muttered, scratching his cheek, "I can't make it this time."

"What!"

"I gotta cover shifts at the store this entire day," the cashier explained. "Sorry for not telling ya 'til now, I forgot. Find someone else to MC this time, okay?" There was a slow groan of irritation in reply.

"…Fine," the man on the phone finally sighed. Then with a different, more upbeat tone, commented, "But hey, you're missing out, Mister Apoo! The 'Mad Monk' showed up! He's gonna be participating today!"

"Whaaat?" Apoo exclaimed. His eyes showed excitement at first, then disappointment when he remembered that he wasn't going to be there. The "Mad Monk"…that was a rare contestant in the festivities. Apoo had only gotten to see the man in action once. He was a man of shockingly giant proportions, and he was seen capable of beating several average men around into submission. Some even called the man a legend, since he was so exclusive. Apoo made a face, disappointed to miss such a special event. As he stood there, the sound of the shop door opening reached his ears, warning him that a customer was entering. "Well, you'd better tell me about it later, man," Apoo continued, wrapping up the call.

"I'll probably do that without being told, Mister Apoo."

"Haha, right. Well, I have to go. A customer's here."

"See you around!"

The phone was hung back onto its post on the wall with a quiet _click_. As he walked back to the counter and sat back down in his seat. Right when he resumed his original post, the man who had entered the store walked to the counter, carrying a large bundle of things. Apoo frowned at the strange bundle of miscellaneous things. "Wow, what's all this for?"

"Work," the man said simply. It was such a vague answer…but it wasn't Apoo's business to poke into someone else's life, anyway. He shrugged it off, commencing with his job.

"Here ya go."

The customer simply turned and left after he paid, leaving the bored cashier on his own again. Apoo rested his chin on his palm, staring off into space. _'The Mad Monk…I really am missin' out, aren't I,'_ he thought with a scowl. He was still for a moment, then sighed, shrugging to himself. "Well! Can't help it. This is my job after all," he muttered, the sides of his mouth turning up into a mild grin. He leaned back in the chair, stretching his arms behind his head. Honestly, he wouldn't trade this job for anything else in the world, including seeing Mad Monk in action again. There was no way he would exchange meeting one extremely important person with meeting all of the characters dwelling in this mysterious city.

Yes sir, Scratchman Apoo loved his job indeed.


End file.
